


The Meaning of the Word

by Brigdh



Category: Yami No Matsuei
Genre: Character Study, Friendship, Gen, Prompt Fic, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-03-13
Packaged: 2018-01-15 14:47:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1308730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brigdh/pseuds/Brigdh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hisoka considers what it means to be friends with Tsuzuki. </p><p>Written for wolfpilot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Meaning of the Word

Friendship, Hisoka decided, was a lot like being annoyed all the time, and not minding. Because it wasn't as if he _liked_ the way Tsuzuki acted; the man was a slob and an idiot and had as much restraint as a five-year-old, and Hisoka meant every single one of the various things he'd called him.

Well. He meant them when he said them. And he usually meant them afterwards, especially if Tsuzuki laughed off the insult. Really, it was only rarely that he felt cruel and tactless and mean, and that was just because Tsuzuki could take him so seriously. It seemed that the only times Tsuzuki was ever serious was when he'd found something new to feel guilty over, and that was bad enough for Hisoka to almost wish he'd stick to slacking off and eating pie.

But most days were somewhere between those two extremes. Even Tsuzuki– who to first appearances was capable only of an insanely giddy cheerfulness and darkest depression– relaxed, and managed to pester Hisoka about a new store or going drinking or a person he'd met, whatever his latest distraction from work was, without the air of forced casualness that could make him so fragile. Ordinary days then, meant Tsuzuki's hand in Hisoka's hair as he teased him, and his arm looped carelessly around Hisoka's neck when he leaned close to pass along some new piece of office gossip; there were lunches at familiar places as Tsuzuki caught up with every waitress and busboy, or dinners at some excitingly new restaurant and squabbles over the price.

There had to be some special property of friendship that could make that all seem ordinary, because there wasn't any other explanation for how Hisoka could find Tsuzuki on his doorstep at 2 a.m., drunk and saying stupid things in a soft voice and waiting for Hisoka to make it better, and take it in stride. A year ago, when he was still alive, there was no one Hisoka wouldn't have shut the door on- not that anyone he knew would have come to him for help. Tsuzuki was the only one foolish enough to trust him.

It must be friendship, because Hisoka hadn't changed. He wasn't ever going to be a nice person, and he wasn't any less annoyed than he would have been before, but he let Tsuzuki in anyway. Something had to be different. And with Tsuzuki sprawled over the couch, his dirty shoes still on and a hand covering reddened eyes, it was a bit more comforting to blame friendship than insanity.


End file.
